


Joy That Fills Our Hearts And Makes Us See

by hemakeshimstrongx



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-07
Updated: 2016-12-07
Packaged: 2018-09-07 01:14:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,761
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8777284
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hemakeshimstrongx/pseuds/hemakeshimstrongx
Summary: louis tomlinson isn't one to make a fuss about his birthday, but the one time he lets a fuss be made, it's all worth it. for jay.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [YassNiall](https://archiveofourown.org/users/YassNiall/gifts).



> this is my first ever fic exchange! i'm a hoe for christmas fics so why not do a christmas fic exchange!!!!!!?????

“You know that in order to put presents under a tree we have to  _ have  _ a tree, correct?” 

“Yes, Harold, I know,” Louis rolls his eyes.

“Rose has been asking when we’re going to get one. Samantha Burchett already got hers.”

“Oh, let's all just worry about Samantha Burchett, why don't we?” Louis teases, standing up to face Harry properly. “Just because they get their Christmas tree really bloody early doesn't mean we have to.”

“Ten days.”

Louis cocks an eyebrow. “Excuse me?”

“Until Christmas. Ten days. Nine until Christmas Eve, actually. And we don't have a tree.”

“It's kind of hard if we both teach all day and hold LGBTQ club meetings after school and have to take Rose to dance class and somehow fit in Christmas shopping and—”

“Shush,” Harry scolds, putting a finger to Louis’ lips. “I don't want to hear anything more from you, Mister Tomlinson.”

Louis kisses Harry’s fingertip. “What will you do about it,  _ Mister Tomlinson _ ?” he fires back. “Sex is just another thing we haven't got time for, unfortunately.”

“Tomorrow is Saturday.” Harry says calmly. “We are going and picking out a Christmas tree. And Saturday evening you will bring it into the house, and we will decorate. Together. School’s out on Holiday and those grades don't need to be done immediately. Understood?”

“I believe I do understand, sir.”

Harry laughs, kisses Louis firmly before leaving the room. They put Rose to bed hours ago, which was an hour job in itself. It's a struggle getting her hyper, creative self into bed for the night. Louis looks at the papers on his desk, determines that grading for this semester can wait. It's a drama class. Louis would choose Harry over drama any day.

In the bedroom, Harry’s reading a book Louis’ never seen before. “That from Zayn?” he asks, diving into bed next to Harry.

“Mhm.”

“Is it good?”

“Mhm.”

Louis slithers up under Harry’s arm and rests his head. His eyes scan a few words on the page Harry is currently reading, but nothing really strikes his interest. “Eh. Seems okay. But, Zayn is a trusted book-recommender.”

Harry doesn't reply. Louis looks up at his face, deeply concentrated on the book. That explains his grunting responses. His eyebrows are drawn together and he's biting insistently on his lip, like he does when he's thinking. Louis wonders if the book might be a mystery novel of some kind; one Harry’s trying to figure out the ending to. Louis’ own mind starts to wander, back to things of school and LGBTQ club.

“Please stop staring at me.” Harry says suddenly.

“I’m not.”

“You  _ are,”  _ Harry groans, closing his book and tossing it on the nightstand. He scoots down, jostling Louis off of him and pulling the comforter up. “Why are you staring at me?”

“Am I not allowed to look at you? You looked pretty, that's all.”

Harry rolls his eyes. “You're a sap.”

“So what if I am?”

“You were thinking about something.”

And Harry knows him all too well. “It's not like it was life changing. Just school stuff. The club. You.”

“I’m worried you don't know how to take a break.”

Louis laughs, shaking his head. “I know how to take a break. I’m just… thinking. I’m not allowed to think?”

“No, you can think. Think about how tall of a tree we’ll be able to get and the seating arrangement for Christmas dinner,” Harry replies, tangling his legs with Louis’ under the covers and pulling their bodies closer together. “Not about how many kids signed up for club activities or what grade you're gonna give somebody on their slightly-shitty composition.”

“If you can look me in the eye and tell me you're not thinking about some kid’s slightly shitty painting, I’ll stop thinking about my slightly shitty compositions.”

Harry huffs, beginning to pout. Louis’ beat him this time. “Don't pout. Know where Rose gets it from now,” Louis whispers, leaning forward and kissing Harry gently, an effort to get rid of the pout (he kind of finds it adorable, but).

“You're not fair. Not nice.” Harry replies.

“I’ll show you not fair and not nice,” Louis teases, surging forward to catch Harry’s lips in a slow kiss.

Just as Louis starts to feel like they might actually be getting somewhere, their door creaks open and they’re forced to untangle themselves as Rose comes in.

“What’s wrong, Rosie?” Harry asks, unable to protest as she climbs right over him to the middle of the bed.

“Had a bad dream. Can I sleep in here?”

“You’re gonna do it anyway, aren’t you?” Louis laughs.

Rose is barely even fazed by her dad’s teasing. It something Louis does so commonly, to her and his own siblings and even Harry, that it doesn’t faze anyone anymore. Harry smiles so widely that it’s impossible Louis doesn’t see it. If he does, he doesn’t say anything. Harry evades teasing for the time being.

Despite a more crowded bed, Louis ends up having a very nice sleep. He wakes up again in the morning to an empty bed. The entire house smells like breakfast, bacon, to be exact. It prompts Louis to get out of bed and freshen up before going down. In the kitchen, Harry has his phone plugged into a speaker and Rose is singing along to an Ed Sheeran song from where she’s perched on the countertop. Harry’s standing in front of the stove, also singing the song.

“Well, good morning,” Louis says approvingly, kissing Rose on the head. “Did you have a nice sleep last night?”

Rose nods. “Daddy make breakfast! He said bacon is your favourite.”

“Daddy  _ made  _ breakfast, and he is right about that.”

“We can get a Christmas tree today, right?” Rose asks excitedly.

Louis shoots Harry a look as he gets a coffee mug from the cabinet. “This is your tactic? You’re gonna get our daughter to pressure me into doing the tree?”

“Good morning to you too,” Harry singsongs, leaning towards Louis as he expects a kiss. Louis meets his expectations, of course, but not without an eyeroll. “Yes, we’re going to get a Christmas tree today, Rosie. And tonight we’ll decorate it, I think.”

“That could always wait until tomorrow.” Louis suggests, leaning against the counter. “Do you need me to do anything?”

Harry shakes his head. “Rose already set the table.” 

Louis looks towards their table, where the plates and utensils are somewhat haphazardly placed, but he knows that Rose did the best she could. When they sit down, Louis immediately tears into the two of them, poking fun at whoever was taking up the most space in the bed last night.

“I’m telling you, I was almost pushed off my side. You two took up the whole thing.”

Rose giggles, sitting up on her knees in pure happiness and excitement. “No! You had  _ plenty  _ of room!”

Harry nods in agreement. “I definitely think you had enough room. You didn’t sleep wrong, did you? Because you’ll have to bring in the  _ Christmas tree _ today.”  

Rose’s face lights up, as it usually does at the mention of their tree. “When do we get to go pick one out?”

“In a little bit, love. You can go start getting dressed if you want to.”

She abandons her breakfast almost immediately, running off upstairs. Harry watches her go, then turns back to Louis. Louis’ already looking at him, smiling and just  _ staring  _ in that creepy way Harry says he hates. “Knock it off.” Harry says, standing up and beginning to pick up their plates. “You’re staring at me, and it’s annoying.”

Louis laughs softly. “You always say that. I would think that you’d be used to it by now.”

“It’s always creepy.”

“I’ll wash the dishes.” Louis says, standing up as well. “You can go get ready, help Rosie get ready.”

“Or you could do that. After all, you are about to be her best friend after getting this goddamn Christmas tree.”

“You’re crazy. She likes you the best, obviously.”

“Is it obvious?” Harry chuckles, stepping aside to let Louis stand at the sink. There’s no use in arguing over the dishes.

There’s also no use in arguing over who is Rose’s favorite. Louis teases Harry over it all the time, but it flip flops between himself and Harry being his favorite. He teases Harry by saying that  _ Louis  _ is actually the favorite, and self-deprecates himself for Harry’s pleasure by saying that he’s the favorite. There’s no use in it, though, other than a slight ego boost and a good tease here and there.

“You know you haven’t told me what you want to do for your birthday yet.” Harry says, as if he hasn’t tried to talk about Louis’ birthday fifty times already.

Louis thinks his head might explode if Harry asks about his birthday anymore. Who he wants to come celebrate, what he wants to do, what he wants to receive. Louis used to love making a big deal out of his birthday, but as he got older it became less and less important. Maybe he’ll make a big deal out of his fiftieth birthday. Or hundredth. Not twenty-eighth. That’s just another number closer to thirty and thinking about that makes Louis’ head hurt even more.

“It’s just a birthday, love.” Louis replies just like he always does. “I don’t want anything special, you know that.”

“Yeah, just Rose and I. I know. You always say that you just want us.”

“Because that’s all I  _ ever  _ want.”

“Don’t get sappy.”

Louis rolls his eyes, turning the sink off. “I don’t want a birthday. I hate celebrating, Haz.”

Harry sighs heavily. “If you don’t think of something, I will. And you’ll be forced to do it. You will not be given another option.”

“I’d like to see you try.” Louis laughs, kissing Harry gently on his way out of the kitchen.

Upstairs, Rose is getting ready while singing her favorite Christmas song,  _ Holly Jolly Christmas.  _ Louis and Harry head into the bedroom, where a debate ensues over whether or not they can take a shower together. Harry says no, Louis says yes.

“Rose is right down the hall getting ready. What would she say if she walked in on us in the shower together?” Harry continues avoiding Louis’ attempts.

“She’d probably get right in there with us,” Louis replies between laughs. “You can go. I’ll wait.”

“I was going to go anyway,” Harry sings.

He leaves the door open a crack, like always. Louis has a theory that Harry does it  _ just  _ to tease him. Especially when he  _ knows  _ that they don’t have the opportunity to do anything. Louis can hear Harry start to sing now, but can’t tell exactly which song it is. He knows that Harry sounds good, probably looks  _ really  _ good, but everything is hands off for the time being.

After Harry gets out, Louis goes in. When he comes back out, Rose is perched in the middle of the bed listening to Harry sing a pretty rendition of  _ Hallelujah  _ that Louis could listen to on repeat for the rest of time. This is how it goes almost every morning, it’s their routine. It’s become effortless yet still enjoyable all the same.

“Dress warm, it’s chilly out today,” Harry warns. “Jackets. A scarf on you, little miss.”

“Ah, it’s not that bad,” Louis protests. But he pulls on a jacket anyway.

On the way to the Christmas tree farm, the only thing that plays on the radio is Christmas songs. Louis sings along this time, because Harry and Rose both want him to.

Rose tries to go for the biggest possible tree they have, even asks the man working to show her their biggest possible tree. Louis is tasked with explaining that they have to get one that fits in their living room (and also doesn’t cost a fortune). “I like this one,” Harry points. “Pull it out so we can look at the whole thing.”

Louis doesn’t appreciate always being the one to do all the Christmas tree work, but it makes Harry happy, so he does it. “Little flat in the back.”

“They’ll fall, won’t they? What do you think, Rosie?” Harry asks, looking down at her.

“I like that one. That’s the best one in here. And we have to have the best tree.”

“Alright. Let’s strap it to the roof of the car and get going.”

********

“Ow, papa!” Rose groans, leaning away from Louis’ hands in her hair.

“Well I’m  _ sorry,  _ missy. You’re the one who wanted braids.”

“Lou!” Harry calls suddenly. “Louis!”

“Yeah, baby?” Louis yells back, already having an idea of what Harry’s going to want.

“I need your help with the Christmas tree!”

Rose gasps, jumping up and running through the house to meet her father at the front door. Her braids remain unfinished, looking like a mess Harry will definitely scold Louis for. Louis and Harry wrestle the tree inside and to its designated spot in the living room while Rose looks on excitedly.

“We have to put the skirt under it so we stop getting pine needles all over the floor.” Harry says, first and foremost, just like every year since they started seeing each other. “Then we can start putting up decorations, right Rosie?”

“All of them! I wanna use  _ all _ of our decorations this year.”

“I think that's a bit too many, peanut. But we can try. Babe, you wanna tell me what angle you like this at?” Louis bends down to grab the gree by the trunk and rotate it in the stand. He goes until Harry says stop and Rose gives her official seal of approval.

Thankful that the tree’s placement has been approved, Louis sits down on the couch. “What’re you doing?” Harry asks, crouching down to open the bin of Christmas tree decorations.

“Sitting down. I don’t want to get in your way, and I prefer watching anyway.”

“I wasn’t going to ask for your help, I was actually going to ask for you to make me a drink.” Harry smiles at Louis over his shoulder. “Surprise me.”

“Can you make me a drink?” Rose asks, looking up at Louis with her big, hopeful eyes that she knows can get her anything.

Louis makes it seem like he’s really considering it and sighs heavily. “I can get you a hot chocolate, how’s that sound?”

She nods excitedly. “Yes please papa.”

In the kitchen, Louis uses their Keurig machine to make Rose’s hot chocolate and makes Harry a whiskey and Coke because that's what takes the absolute shortest amount of time. He refrains from making himself anything for now. He’ll get to let loose sooner or later, himself and Harry promise each other that much.

“Mhm. Thank you,” Harry hums, taking the glass from Louis. “Now. Are you going to help?”

********

“I know what we’re going to do for your birthday,” Harry says excitedly, crawling up into bed next to Louis.

“I don’t–”

“Hear me out! I know you’re getting older and you’ve always hated your birthday, but I’ve been in love with you for… like, a lot of years now.” Harry pauses, waiting for Louis to finish laughing. “Stop it! I’ve known you for a long, long time and I know that getting drunk was always your favourite pastime.”

“You aren’t wrong,” Louis is still laughing, making Harry pout. Louis finds him helplessly adorable. 

“Getting drunk was always something you were exceptional at, so on Monday night we’re going to go out and get drunk.” Harry finishes quickly, not giving Louis a chance to interrupt.

Louis nods slowly. Harry’s got him pegged. “I would love to get drunk with you on a Monday night, Harry Styles.”

“Tomlinson.” Harry corrects, kissing Louis on the cheek. “Then on Tuesday the twenty fourth, everyone’s coming over for Christmas Eve-slash-Louis’ twenty eighth birthday.”

“Harry!”

“Don’t get mad at me! It was your mum’s idea.”

“What, to butter me up by telling me that we’re getting drunk and  _ then  _ dropping on me that you’re actually having a party?”

“It’s not a party, oh my god. Everything isn’t all about you. It’s Christmas Eve too, they’re coming over to celebrate the Eve of Christmas. Not just your birthday.”

“ _ The Eve of Christmas,  _ you’re a fucking idiot. Come here.”

“No fucking tonight. Save it for tomorrow, old man.”

Louis laughs, throwing his head back. It gives Harry an open opportunity to kiss his neck, so. “So Monday, we’ll be getting drunk.”

“Who’s gonna watch Rose?”

“My mum. She’ll stay overnight then be here to help us on Tuesday.”

 

Monday can’t come fast enough. Louis can moan and groan about it all he wants, but both himself and Harry are well aware that he’s looking forward to this. And not because it’s a birthday-appreciating event, Louis still hates his birthday with almost everything he has in him. He’s looking forward to it because it’ll be a night out, just himself and Harry. And they’re getting  _ drunk.  _ When they were younger, in their teens and early twenties, Louis and Harry were constant party goers. Niall always threw the biggest weekend bashes at university, for no reason other than the fact that it was an excuse to get drunk. Louis and Harry met at one of those parties, both too intoxicated to leave and ended up having to crash in the same bed. 

Nothing happened that night, but that doesn’t speak for the night after that. After that party they started leaving parties together, and then everybody knew. They were the token duo at these parties, always loud and always drunk and always together.

So, Louis is rather excited to relive that uni-party-drunk again. And if Anne’s watching Rose for the night, that means technically Harry and Louis don’t even have to come  _ home.  _ They can stay out all night like they’re twenty years old again.

“How long does it take you to get ready?” Louis groans, leaning in the doorway.

“It hasn’t even been that long,” Harry replies, attempting to make a stray piece of hair stay slicked back.

“It’s been  _ too  _ long. We should have pregamed.”

Harry laughs, closing the dresser drawers that Louis left open while he was getting ready earlier. “How’s Rose?”

“Ah, she’s roped nana into all sorts of stuff downstairs now. They’ll be fine tonight.”

“I just wanna say bye before we go.”

“We have to go past them on the way out, we’re saying bye whether we want to or not.”

“Love you,” Harry murmurs, kissing Louis gently on the lips before heading out of the bedroom.

 

Louis nearly forgot how much fun it is when he and Harry go out together. Not having to worry about getting home or waking up for work or anything else except for each other. Right now he’s got alcohol coursing through his system and he’s a bit sweaty but he’s got Harry’s sweaty body pressed against him on the dance floor and he can't even imagine being anywhere else. 

“You know that you’re  _ devilishly  _ handsome, right?” Harry slurs, wrapping his arms around Louis’ neck as they move together in the cluster of people. “Ever since the day I met you, that’s what I thought. Every single day, I thought about how fucking  _ hot  _ you are.”

Louis laughs, nosing along Harry’s jaw. “Same for me, love. You're drop dead gorgeous.”

“Mhm... “ Harry groans, right in Louis’ ear. “Louis, I want to do something.”

“Anything.” Louis replies immediately. Harry could probably ask him for anything right now and Louis would get it for him. Between the atmosphere and the lights making Harry look especially pretty and the fact that they’re so  _ close  _ and the drinks Louis has in him right now, he’d agree to anything. He’s drunk and they’re in love and Harry looks gorgeous and they have their entire lives together.

 

Harry ends up dragging Louis to the bathroom for a hookup so messy it’s one for the record books. They haven’t done that since they met  _ years  _ ago.

“I’m surprised you were even able to get it up.” Harry giggles, slamming his car door shut. Louis rolls his eyes. “Are you good to drive? We could call a cab. Get a room.”

“I’ve sobered up plenty.” Louis replies. He can feel Harry looking at him warily. “I’m good. Do you want me to do a field sobriety test?”

“Go slow.” Harry tells him.

 

They get home safe. There was hours between his last drink and getting in the car. Hours and a really hot hookup. No amount of alcohol could ever cloud his judgment when it comes to Harry anyway, even though Harry begs to differ. They open the front door at half past two in the morning. Harry trips and almost knocks over their standing coat hanger, which makes Louis start laughing. Harry quickly shushes him. In the kitchen, they get water before heading up to the bedroom.

Harry stops and looks in on Rose and his mother, both asleep in the guest bedroom. “You okay?” Louis asks, pulling the duvet up over Harry.

Harry nods, settling into the mattress with a heavy sigh. “Happy birthday, Lou.”

Louis leans over and kisses his forehead. “Thank you for tonight, baby.”

“Love you.” Harry hums, eyes slipping shut.

“Love you back.” Louis smiles, soft and feeling warm all over.

In the morning he wake up to snow (actual real live snow) outside and breakfast being made downstairs by Harry, Anne and Rose. It’s not even nine yet, but Louis gets up anyways. He has to deal with a Rose-led happy birthday singing and is practically force fed way too many pancakes, but he really doesn’t mind. Harry tells him that everyone is coming over around noon, so they should get a jump start on getting ready. Rose takes especially long to get dressed, so that definitely is a priority. 

In the private of their bedroom, Harry traps Louis against the bathroom door for a lengthy snog for no reason other than the fact that they’re really fucking in love and it’s Louis birthday. They manage a shower together, one that Harry sings softly during. His voice always gives Louis chills.

Once his family arrives, Jay and Anne immediately get to work in the kitchen. “Why can’t I be in here anymore?” Louis asks, watching carefully as his mother begins preparing food.

“Because you like trying to steal bits of food while I’m cooking, that’s why. It’s also your birthday, it’s Christmas Eve and I want you to be with your husband and your daughter.” Jay replies. “Anne and I have the cooking, right?”

“Of course we do! And Louis, love, do your best to keep Harry out of here as well, alright?”

Louis sighs, shaking his head in disbelief. “Shouldn’t you be with your family on Christmas as well?”

“I’ve had twenty eight with you. I’ve had my fair share of Christmases, Louis William. Go in the living room.”

He picks up his and Harry’s glasses of wine and takes them into the living room, deciding it’s not worth the fight. “What’s going on in there?” Harry asks, taking the glass from Louis.

“We’ve been banished from our own kitchen, that’s what.”

Harry frowns. “Oh. Well, you can’t cook. And besides, I’d rather be in here with you.”

“And all of us!” Doris chimes in.

“ _ Obviously  _ all of you too.”

Louis doesn't really mind being banned from the kitchen. He  _ really _ can't cook anyway. Harry, on the other hand, is constantly itching to get in the kitchen. It's always a battle to get him to stay out, sit down, and relax without constantly hovering over the stove.

But as of right now, Harry seems okay with it. He pulls his feet up on the couch and falls further into Louis’ side as they watch Rose explain the present she hopes Santa brings tomorrow morning.

The doorbell rings then. Louis doesn't know who else could possibly be. But then Harry gets up immediately, rushing to the door. “Harry!” Louis groans, throwing his head back.

The house is suddenly ten times louder with the presence of Zayn, Liam and Niall. Louis  _ wishes _ he could be annoyed. He wishes he could moan and groan about how he doesn't like his birthday, doesn't want to spend his birthday surrounded by a million people and a cake and presents. But he's not.

“You guys didn't have to come,” he says, clapping Zayn on the back.

“Oh, please. Had to come and make sure that you weren't wrecking Rose’s childhood.” Zayn replies. “Besides, we haven't seen you in forever. And it's your damn birthday.”

“Babe, you're supposed to be nice.” Liam scolds. pinching Zayn’s cheek.

“When do you guys start up a family?” Harry asks, wrapping his arms around Louis’ waist as they stand talking in the kitchen.

“We're on it, actually. Thinking of going through surrogacy, though.” Zayn replies easily. “Not too keen on jacking off for a cup, though. So.”

“I said the same thing!” Louis exclaims.

“You guys are too open.” Liam exhales, shaking his head. “Makes me uncomfortable.”

“Aww, Payno, you’ll be fine.” Louis deadpans, making Liam roll his eyes.

“You know I’m gonna make you jack off for a cup in the near future, right?” Harry asks, voice right in Louis’ ear as they watch Liam and Zayn head off to greet everyone else.

“Why me?” 

“Because I want our next baby to have beautiful blue eyes like yours. Also, I can't play sports for shit.”

Louis laughs, pressing a kiss to the corner of Harry’s mouth. “Is your sister coming with the baby?”

“Mhm. Miles and Carly.”

“Carly.” Louis hums. “Not the name i’d pick for my daughter, I don't think.”

“Oh, shut up. I think it’s a cute name.”

In the kitchen, another glass of wine is forced into Louis’ hand and then he’s promptly shoved from the room. He sits down again, unable to do anything else. Harry comes and sits beside him, another glass of wine in his own hand. “Gonna cut myself off after this one.” He murmurs, kissing Louis’ neck.

“Sure you are, baby.”

“No, I am.”

“Daddy! You have to help me, Uncle Niall says he’s gonna catch me!” Rose screeches, taking off running around the living room.

“Hold this.” Harry grins, shoving his glass into Louis’ hand. “I think I’m gonna help  _ him  _ instead!”

Rose screeches even louder, making Louis break out into a huge smile. He watches Niall and Harry both chase Rose around the living room. Louis can smell dinner from the kitchen and hear everyone chatting around the house.

When nothing but Harry’s laugh fills the room as Niall finally catches Rose, Louis realizes that this isn’t so bad. Celebrating his birthday like this isn’t so bad. “Best birthday ever,” he says softly, more to himself than anyone else.

Harry plops back down on the couch, looking expectant. “What’d you say?”

Louis shrugs, draping his arm behind Harry on the couch. “Nothing important.”

Harry smiles. “I wanna know what you said. What you're thinking about.”

“Thinking about this. Today. My birthday.” Louis sighs. Harry quirks an eyebrow. “How I don't… mind all of this.”

“Don't mind it?” Harry laughs, a smirk crossing his face.

“Yeah. I don't mind it. The birthday fuss.”

He's lucky, that's what he is. Louis Tomlinson is the luckiest man on this entire planet. He's got a happy daughter and a happy husband and he's happy and that's all that really matters in the long run. Louis can smell the food and hear his mother telling some overly dramatic story about Lottie’s engagement and can hardly  _ wait _ to see Harry’s face when Gemma shows up with the baby.

“Just admit it.” Harry says suddenly, his eyes locked on Niall tickling Rose.

“Admit what?” Louis asks.

“That you like the birthday fuss.”

“I won't admit that I  _ like  _ it… but I'll tell you that this is probably my best birthday yet.”

And, yeah, Louis Tomlinson is  _ definitely  _ the luckiest man in the world, not a single person could convince him otherwise. Even with the hectic schedules and the grading and the clubs and dance classes and horrible grocery shopping skills and not enough time to have sex sometimes, Louis knows that he couldn't live without all that stuff. He also knows that the only reason he  _ can  _ endure that is because he's with Harry. And now Rose.

As long as he has them and they're happy, Louis has everything he could ever want or need.

 

**Author's Note:**

> thank you so much for reading! i had so much fun partaking in this exchange nd definitely plan on participating next year so you have something to look forward to now ;)  
> please leave kudos and comment, it's always appreciated!  
> my tumblr is alwaysbearound and my twitter is itfeltlikehome_ feel free to reach out!!


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